


Reclaim

by MechBull



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bondage, Breathplay, But certain scenes do skirt those lines so keep that in mind, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Drowning, Feeding, Gun Violence, I would not call this BDSM or D/s personally, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, Sexual Assault, Starvation, Temporary Character Death, frank discussion of injuries and accidents, less than enthusiastic consent, references to cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: They needed to associate it –replaceit – with a good memory, as much as they needed to celebrate that it hadn’t been the last one. That they still had time with each other.Character study cleverly disguised as porn vignettes.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Please read the tags carefully.** I have tried to include as many warnings as I could think of. However, if you have a specific trigger you might be concerned about that is not there or you would like more details on any of them in order to decide whether to read, please feel free to contact me. Also, if you read this and think other tags are needed, please let me know to add them.

The closest safe house from London didn’t have much going for it. A generator for electricity, some sketchy canned goods that one of them had left behind maybe five years ago, and an old black-and-white TV that – if you jiggled the knob just right and held your breath – sometimes worked. But what it did have going for it was individual rooms. And for that, Joe would put up with a lot. He loved the others, but damn it, he didn’t want to bunk up like they were at summer camp or whatever it was called. Not that night. 

That night, he needed to have privacy with Nicky. 

When the door to the bedroom closed behind them, Joe sighed with relief. They had the room in the far back corner, while the other two rooms were clear on the other side of the house. That arrangement had been insisted on long ago, because Booker –

Well, they just always slept in those rooms. 

Joe tilted his head to the side, stretching out the kink in his neck. It had been a long, stressful day, and his healing could barely keep up with the demand. No wounds from the – from the lab remained, of course, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still tense with anger and fear and horror at the memory of – 

“Lie down?” he said to Nicky, a request or a command or both. “Please?”

Nicky scoffed from under the shirt he was pulling over his head. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“No, on – on the ground.”

Now shirtless and reaching for the button of his pants, Nicky twisted to look at him, raising one eye in curious confusion.

“Hmm?”

Joe’s expression must have been enough of an explanation. Nicky’s own face softened. 

“Oh.”

He spared one more second to shuck his pants, and then he did as Joe had asked. Dropping to one knee first, he turned to sit and then stretch out. With a slight grunt indicating his own tired stiffness, he readjusted his shoulders and legs slightly, getting as comfortable as he could on the floor. 

Joe pushed off his own clothes and then knelt. The floor was hard under his knees, and damn, he was really, _really_ too old for this, but he wasn’t going to stop now. Instead, he crawled closer, getting into position above Nicky, who looked up at him with love and understanding. 

And just a bit of anticipation. 

They had done this so many times before. It was something they never really talked about much, but had grown to cherish. There were so many different reasons they could and did make love – or fuck, on the occasions that a delicate euphemism would be laughably inaccurate. Because they were horny, obviously. But also because they were angry with each other. Or needlessly jealous. Tenderly romantic. Tired but unable to sleep. Nostalgic. Bored. Full of adrenaline. Happy. Sad. Curious. In love. When it had been too long since the last time and one of them joked that the other must have lost interest. When it had been mere minutes since the last time but they still couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Because one or both of them had died in some spectacularly painful or upsetting way. 

And they just needed to – they needed to reclaim that somehow. They needed to associate it – _replace_ it – with a good memory, as much as they needed to celebrate that it hadn’t been the last one. That they still had time with each other. 

Nicky breathed in, and out again slowly, deep and a bit rough, and thankfully so different from the way he had sucked in his first new breath earlier. He reached his arms up, wrapping his hands around one of Joe’s forearms and the other elbow. Joe returned the gesture, gripping him perhaps a bit tighter than he had on the floor of that awful building, needing to ground himself in the reality of the moment.

“I’m still here,” Nicky whispered in Italian, a strange repetition of his words when he finally woke in the van. 

Joe dipped down and kissed him, softly at first, but growing deeper almost immediately. His tongue slid between Nicky’s lips, between his teeth, following the path of the barrel of the gun. Nicky moaned deep in his chest, a much better sound than the grimacing shout he had made earlier. 

And then he pushed Joe up and away. Joe blinked his eyes open, inhaling through his nose. The barest hint of a smile teased at the corners of Nicky’s mouth, and he quirked an eyebrow up, more in challenge than query.

The _are you thinking what I’m thinking?_ was almost audible. 

And _of course_ he was. With a little growl, Joe leaned down and lightly bit the point of Nicky’s chin until he heard him chuckle. And then Joe began working his way down, dropping slurping kisses and little bites to his chest, his stomach, the ticklish-yet-erotic spot just below his belly button that always made him twitch. Even as Joe slid his fingers under the waistband of Nicky’s underwear, he felt his own get tugged down. 

If Nicky had to have something long and hard shooting off in his mouth, this was a much better option. And it was only fair if Joe got to have that too.

**

Later, after they were together for centuries and Nicolo’s love was as comfortable and constant as it was still, always thrilling and miraculous, Yusuf would know how silly it was to feel any jealousy ever. But in the early decades, any beautiful woman who smiled just so, any gorgeous man who stared a certain way, felt like a threat. Which perhaps explained why he was glaring at the young man currently rubbing his hands all over – ALL OVER – Nico’s body. He was watching so intently for any inappropriate groping that he didn’t even pay attention to the person scrubbing him down.

Nico looked at him and smiled knowingly, rather teasingly in fact, when he saw Yusuf’s face. But his next comment did not mention Yusuf’s barely-hidden reaction at all. Not explicitly anyway, although it did have an element of _I told you so_ to it, as this had been Yusuf’s idea in the first place. 

“I thought these places were silly and wasteful with the Romans,” Nico said in the language of his childhood, clearly hoping to maintain some privacy from the servants, who pretended to be deaf even as they listened keenly. “My opinion hasn’t changed with the Muslim ones. Although they are beautiful buildings.”

“They serve an important religious function,” Yusuf responded haughtily in the same language. “You cannot compare it to the baths of the hedonistic, pagan Romans.”

The tilt of Nico’s head and the barest hint of a smile indicated he was more than aware that Yusuf was being deliberately provocative. For one thing, neither of them had been particularly concerned about religious functions or rituals for quite some years. 

“If you think I am going to take offense at you insulting the Romans…” he said, making Yusuf laugh. 

Finally, finally, the young man stepped away from Nico and gestured to direct them into the next room. Yusuf went first, not even noticing until he was surrounded by steam that Nico hadn’t followed immediately. He tried not to worry about whatever had kept him behind, whatever he was perhaps saying to the servant who had been washing him. 

So, instead, he sat down. The room was empty, so he had his choice of locations. He picked a spot in the corner, a long bench near the source of the almost overwhelming heat. He arranged the cloth around his waist to cover himself, although he doubted Nico would complain about any lack of modesty. 

Finally, Nicolo came in. He sat right next to Yusuf, practically on top of him. They hardly needed to conserve body heat, but Yusuf wasn’t going to ask him to move anytime soon. He watched fondly as Nico leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes, and sighed in pleasure. 

“This is nice,” he observed.

Sweat was already starting to bead all over his skin, giving him a deliciously tempting _sheen_. Yusuf remembered how horribly he handled the desert, especially at the beginning. He didn’t think Nico would ever call heat _nice_ , but Yusuf himself loved Nico in it. The sweat that made him taste salty even as it made him smell…less than pleasant (although the odor could still drive Yusuf mad with desire). The flush of his skin as his temperature raised and his pale skin burnt and healed and burnt and healed whenever he forgot to cover it well. The gulping of his throat when he drank from their waterskins, drops sometimes escaping and running down – 

“Yusuf?”

Yusuf shook his head, blinking. “Yes.”

“This is nice, I said.”

“Yes, I agree.”

Nicolo gave him a sly smile, and Yusuf knew he was as obvious then as he had been earlier with the servant. 

“You know what I was thinking about earlier?” Nico asked.

Yusuf had a hard time answering, as Nico leaned over his body to scoop up some more water and pour it over the hot stones. Sizzling accompanied the steam that filled the room, reducing the visibility even more. 

“What’s that?” Yusuf finally asked. 

“That fire several months ago.”

They had spent a night in a small village, not even large enough to have an inn. They instead paid a local family for permission to sleep in their back room. It had been shelter, at least, from the drizzly rain and cold that seemed to seep into a person’s bones the longer they spent in it. All the houses in the village had been burning bright fires against the chill, and one family had paid the price. They had woken to shouts and commotion, as their hosts and other neighbors ran to help. 

And, of course, they helped as well. Nico worked with others gathering buckets of water, while Yusuf ran inside with his typical recklessness. He got two of the family’s children out and was searching for more when he succumbed to the smoke. The flames blistering his skin brought him to consciousness again, but he had thankfully healed in time to rescue one last child, a baby. 

Nicolo had looked at him, at his destroyed clothes and soot-covered hair and some still-healing burns, and clearly knew that Yusuf had died at least once during the rescue. He had pressed his lips together, thankfully knowing it would be futile and hypocritical to scold Yusuf for taking stupid risks when there had been children in danger. But he had been short with Yusuf for about two more days after that, anyway. 

Yusuf didn’t think he brought it up to scold him about it now, though. That only became clearer with Nico’s next moves. Yusuf’s lips twitched with the urge to smile, as Nico began to push him down to lie on the bench. It was wide enough for them to both fit on their sides, but just barely. Yusuf held Nico close, one hand on the dip of Nico’s back and the other propping his own head up. Their legs tangled together, the meager cloths not doing much to keep their cocks from rubbing together tantalizingly. 

“All that smoke,” Nico said softly. Yusuf breathed deeply, feeling the steam fill his lungs and the sweat all over his own body – not only from the humidity. “All that heat.” 

Nico rocked his hips, rubbing against Yusuf slowly. Too hot for anything too vigorous, after all, and he’d be completely in favor of moving together lazily until they both spilled their seed but – 

“Nicolo, someone could come in,” he pointed out. He thought he made it clear that he did not ever want to share Nico with anyone, and that included anyone else getting to see him at the height of passion. 

“Not with how much I promised to pay those servants.” 

Yusuf blinked, then burst out laughing. Nicolo shushed him, his face turning even redder from embarrassment on top of the heat and the _heat_. Yusuf didn’t actually calm, though, until Nico placed his lips on Yusuf’s neck and began to suck. The warm wet of the room had nothing on the warm wet of Nico’s mouth. He groaned, shifting to wrap his arm around Nico and hold him in place, letting his own head drop so he could bend closer and kiss Nico’s neck. 

Nico’s breaths grew louder in his ear, and his own breath hitched in surprised arousal when Nico’s hand wrapped around his cock and began to stroke. Yusuf reached down, taking hold of Nicolo in turn. Intoxicatingly slow, steady, sensual movements brought Yusuf close to climax far sooner than he would have imagined possible. But even then, the ecstasy he felt whenever Nicolo touched him was not enough to cast away the suffocating heat of the room. Yusuf pulled his head out of the dark little nook he had made for himself by Nico’s neck, sucking in hot air that did little to relieve him. 

Nico twisted his head, swiping his tongue up Yusuf’s sweaty check, moaning slightly as he squeezed his hand ever so tighter. 

Yusuf came, shuddering with pleasure, and Nico followed. Both of their releases seemed to feel obscenely warm against Yusuf’s stomach. They both panted for breath, clinging to each other as they calmed. 

Eventually, although he was loath to admit it, Yusuf had to say, “We need to move. It is too hot in here. And I am concerned about how much payment those boys will actually talk you out of, in the end.” 

Nico chuckled. He tilted his head and leaned closer to kiss Yusuf’s cheek. “Worth every bit.”

Yusuf hummed in acknowledgment, then sat up. Supporting each other, they pushed and pulled until they both were standing. Yusuf’s legs were quite shaky as he led Nico into the next room. As they passed through the doors, he turned to Nico.

“I’m glad we wash ourselves now. I wouldn’t want to have to explain the state we’re in.”

Nico grinned, nodding in agreement.

“Don’t worry, though,” Yusuf added. “I will help you with the hard-to-reach places.”

Nico’s smile turned delightfully smug.

**

By that time, Nicolas had died all sorts of ways. From wounds and injuries, many of them at Josef’s hand, in fact. From exposure to just about every element. From thirst, choking on sand. From exhaustion. One memorable time, from venom. That _one_ time he’d never talk about and frankly would prefer to forget. He felt like he could expertly conclude that starvation was, if not the worst, definitely towards the bottom of the list. They were stranded, stuck in a cave after a freakishly large and late snow storm. The cave was surprisingly warm even without a fire – especially when they shared their cloaks, not to mention the heat of their bodies, and the first day or two was quite enjoyable. Yet, they were almost certainly only a few days from the village where they had planned to restock their supplies. For a while, they argued whether to try to get there anyway, assuming they would at least make progress each new time before the cold overpowered them. In the end, they decided to wait it out. Surely, they decided, it wouldn’t take that long for the snow to melt enough to make their travel easier.

The snow lasted longer than their dwindling food had, even when they rationed it. 

Nicolas’ belly ached with hunger, a gnawing emptiness that felt like a chasm consuming him from the inside out. He was weak, possibly delirious. He felt wan and thin, the prolonged assault on his body too much even for the miraculous healing to keep up with. He would die soon, again, he knew. He turned his head to look at Josef, to see whether he had revived yet. His eyes were still closed, his lips chapped, his cheeks sunken. He was not breathing. It was worse to see him like this than it was to suffer through it himself. Josef, who was always so energetic, so full of life, barely able to move. The soft parts of his body all wasted away, and his lovely muscles gone too. 

Nicolas struggled to hang on, wanting to see Josef come back first. Wanting to make sure. He fought against the darkness, sighing in relief when Josef groaned back to life. Josef looked at him, checking in, and Nicolas tried to respond without much luck. He sensed Josef force himself to his hands and knees, beginning to crawl. He’d head for the mouth of the cave now, following their established routine, using the fresh surplus of energy to gather snow for them both to melt in their mouths. It would be Nicolas’ turn soon enough. 

More out of luck than anything else, Nicolas was still conscious when Josef returned. He held his cupped hands over Nicolas’ mouth, opening them just enough to let the snow dribble out. Nicolas twitched involuntarily at the cold, and he whined softly. 

“Drink, my heart. You must.” 

Nicolas tried, choking and coughing more than actually swallowing. And then – and then – and then – 

Nicolas gasped, half-sitting. With a groan, he fell back down again. Josef rested his hand on Nicolas’ painfully empty stomach. 

“How long?”

“A few minutes. I will fetch you more snow.”

Nicolas nodded, not able to do much more than that. When Josef returned again, bringing another handful of icy nothing for Nicolas to pretend could sustain him, he spoke softly.

“Nicolo, I’m begging you – ”

“No.”

“I cannot watch you – ”

“No.”

“You could make it farther, get food – ”

“No.”

“I will _heal_.”

“I am not eating you, Yusuf. I am not having this fight again.”

He loved Josef even for this, for being willing to cut himself to pieces if it meant Nicolas would get out of this hell sooner. But he’d seen it before and understood it in a way that Josef did not, the animalistic horror of – he’d had enough of that for multiple lifetimes, and he wouldn’t be part of it now, and especially not with Josef.

“Besides the snow is melting,” he added, trying to find some hope.

“Not fast enough,” Josef complained, falling down next to Nicolas. He reached a hand out, finding Nicolas’. They gripped each other’s fingers tightly, or as tightly as they had the strength for. 

Not fast enough, certainly, but it did melt. It was Nicolas who wakened first to see the running rivulets of water, the underbrush of the forest peeking through. With joy and gratitude, he kissed Josef’s head, getting nothing much more than a mumble in response. He left Josef to sleep, hopefully to rejuvenate again, and he dragged himself out to gather whatever he could find. 

He was not picky. Leaves, berries, moss and mushrooms, all still partially frozen, some small sticks that could help build a fire, a few eggs from a nest that probably weren’t good but were worth a try, even some insects and grubs all ended up in the pouch he had brought.

And some of it ended up in his belly, too.

When he had recovered enough, he found his way to a river they had seen just shortly before the storm had hit. Nicolas’ endless patience came in useful, as he stood half-bent in the cold water, his feet and hands chilled enough to lose feeling and warn of some more painful healing to come, until he was able to grab hold of a fish. A _fish_. 

He and Josef would feast like kings. 

Josef was dead again when he returned to the cave, and Nicolas wondered if he had even known that he had left, that they’d made it through the worst of it. He sat down to wait, exhaling in relief when Josef came back to him once more. He moved closer, sitting along Josef’s side.

“Eat, my love,” he instructed, feeding him some of the berries, crushed so he did not need to waste energy on chewing. 

Josef’s eyes opened wide in surprise. He sucked the juice off Nicolas’ fingers, teeth nipping at the pads as he searched for more. Nicolas soothed him with soft words, with caresses from his free hand, as he pulled away to pick up more food. He fed Josef again, leaning forward to kiss him once he swallowed it down. 

They ate until their abused stomachs rebelled, and then they ate some more. It was perhaps the best meal Nicolas ever had.

Until they finally arrived in the town, that is, and Josef returned to their rented room with a meal that must have cost him every last coin they had saved. Nicolas did not complain. He merely pulled Josef away from the table he clearly intended to set the spread on and proceeded to demonstrate that he didn’t need a table to eat off of when he had Josef’s body. Josef chuckled as Nicolas sucked and nibbled morsels off Josef, then let him find a place on Nicolas to serve as his plate. They took turns, becoming sticky and gritty with the remnants of food. There were sweet and savory dishes, hot and spicy, and every flavor imaginable, but none as satiating as the taste of Josef. 

Eventually, the food was gone, so instead Nicolas sucked on Josef's tongue and fingers and earlobes and every part of him he could reach. They rocked together, clinging to each other, enjoying the comfortable bed, the warmth of the room, and the fullness of their bellies, as much if not more as they enjoyed the hardness of their cocks. 

Nicolas broke away, twisting around to bite at Josef’s neck. “Now, I will,” he whispered.

“Hmm?” Josef wondered.

“Swallow you down.” 

Josef’s laughter filled the room, but it turned into a groan when Nicolas reached his intended destination and took Josef’s cock into his mouth. He reached out, grabbing hold of one of Josef’s hands as he worked on him. It did not take long before Josef was shouting out in release. Nicolas took it all, even licking his lips for the last few drops. 

He relaxed, dropping down to rest his head on Josef’s hip. “Very tasty,” he murmured, making Josef laugh again. 

They stayed in the town for weeks, working where they could, until they returned to full health. Every night, Nicolas did a careful inventory of Josef’s body, watching as it filled back in, far faster than it would take for a normal human, far slower than Nicolas would have liked when it came to Josef. Every night, that assessment included him encouraging Josef to eat second, third helpings. Every night, he sucked him until he splashed against Nicolas’ tongue. 

Centuries later, Joe still had a sort of Pavlovian reaction of lust whenever Nicky pushed meals on him. If Nicky were honest, that was at least partly why he chose to be the one to cook so often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some Wikipedia “research” on various things throughout history for this fic, such as similarities and differences between Roman baths and Turkish baths/hammams, etc. But I’m keeping most of the details and timelines in this story vague, because I can’t find all the information I want and/or I want to change things to serve the purpose of the story. I’m not a historian, and this is not meant to be a textbook. 😉
> 
> Also, my headcanon is that yes, they mostly return to life with their bodies in good shape and/or the shape they were in when they died the first time. But we also mostly seem them die from acute wounds, not lingering causes. I think that with those, they can actually waste away (just as they can - with effort and to a limited extent - become drunk or develop muscle/fat between deaths) and so do require more time to fully recover from that, rather than just bouncing back to their “default” states.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the consent-related tag for this chapter. I wouldn't even call it dubious, but there is hesitation and mixed feelings so better safe than sorry.  
> As a second warning, this chapter is also the one with sexual assault (arguably "attempted", depending on your perceptions and interpretations of the term, but again - better safe than sorry).

The barn was not the absolute worst place they ever slept. They got used to the smell quickly enough, and even the “bed” of straw felt comfortable compared to some of the ship berths they’d spent the better part of two centuries in. Most importantly, it was on dry land and farm work would be a nice, solid change of pace. They’d only recently given up the search for Quynh, and Andromache said she needed to be alone for a while, which they grudgingly agreed to, mostly because she didn’t give them a choice. At any rate, it seemed like a good time to settle down somewhere for a while. 

They were also the only ones working on the estate at the moment, so they had the place to themselves, another change of pace from ship life. They’d certainly taken advantage of the privacy, quickly getting past the strange feeling of being watched by the animals around them. 

Being the only ones out in the fields also made that particular day a bit easier. No explanations or excuses were required and they wouldn’t be forced to make a quick escape either. No, the hardest part of the day was seeing Joe lose control of the horse they were breaking, getting kicked in the chest only to end up tangled in the ropes when the horse bolted. Joe was dragged quite some distance before the horse failed to jump a fence and finally stopped. 

It would have been bad enough by itself. The fact that it was the first time either of them had died quite so violently since Quynh… 

Joe had cleaned up as best he could, the cold water from the well making him shiver. Soon enough, the mud and blood were gone, and the stained and ripped clothes were discarded. Joe rested comfortably on the pile of straw and blankets, watching Nick as he tugged on the rope he had just tied to a nearby stall. Two more ropes were already looped snugly around another stall and one of the main weight-bearing posts in the building. 

Nick tugged the rope one more time, ensuring the knot was holding. Then, he faced Joe. He searched for something to say, but had been unable to speak since running up to his broken, twisted body and waiting, waiting, waiting for him to come back to him. When no words came, he closed his mouth, swallowed against the lump in his throat, and forced a quick, small, sad smile. 

Joe nodded, probably knowing what Nick wanted to say when he himself couldn’t figure it out. He breathed out, spreading his ankles apart and reaching his hands above his head, one wrist over the other. 

“I’m ready,” he said softly. 

Nick looked at the rope in his hands and then dropped it, not able to start with that one. Instead, he walked over to the one tied to the post, bent to grab it and brought it back. He crouched down and traced one finger lightly over Joe’s palm, smiling when his hand curled slightly as if he wanted to grasp hold. And then he wrapped his hand around Joe’s wrists and lifted them off the ground so he could tie them. 

“Aren’t you glad you learned all those sailor’s knots now?” Joe asked, unable to resist teasing even then. 

“Shh,” was Nick’s only reply. 

He maintained his own silence as he fortified himself and moved onto the next rope. And then, the last one. He paused, stroking one thumb over the bump of bone in the ankle that had been bent at a completely unnatural angle earlier that day, rubbed raw from the rope hooked around it. No sign left, of course, but Nick could still remember it, and the way Joe had groaned in pain as it straightened, as the hip of the same leg popped back into place, as the cuts and scrapes all over his beautiful skin disappeared. 

“It’s OK,” Joe whispered, breaking Nick out of the trance-like memories. 

He looked up to make eye contact with Joe, licking his lips and swallowing. He bent closer, kissed the ankle, and then looped the rope around it. Soon, everything was ready, and he glanced at Joe again. 

“Good?”

Joe demonstrated that everything was, indeed, very good by pulling at each rope in turn. Just enough give to be just _not_ enough, and the restraint would lead to a delicious frustration. Nick dropped to his knees between Joe’s legs, running his hands up and down the naked skin of his shins. Feeling Joe’s eyes on him, he shifted his weight forward, crawling closer, close enough to drop down and suck an open-mouthed kiss to the corner of his groin. His cheek brushed along the hard length of Joe’s cock, which clearly indicated he was more than interested in what Nick was planning on doing next. 

So, Nick moved on from that area entirely, slinking up until he was in line with Joe, holding himself several inches above him, not letting any contact except between their lips as he drew Joe into a sweet, slow, promising kiss. And then, he backed away again. Joe lifted his own head as far as he could, chasing after Nick, until he was forced to drop back down again. His pout made Nick smile. 

With carefully controlled, slow as molasses movements, Nick traversed Joe’s body, placing kisses, licks, sucks, nibbles on every patch of skin. Soon enough, Joe was squirming, his lower body undulating as he tried to get some sort of friction against his straining cock. 

“Nick,” he begged breathlessly. 

Feeling somewhat generous – but not _that_ generous – Nick reached up and stuck two fingers in Joe’s mouth, a wordless hint that he shouldn’t speak but use his tongue for more useful purposes. Joe took the hint easily and gladly, closing his lips around them and sucking briefly before lathering the fingers with as much saliva as he could force into his mouth. And so to reward him, Nick dropped down, trapping both their cocks between their bellies as he pressed his mouth to Joe’s neck. Joe damn near sobbed with relief around Nick’s fingers for a moment, before renewing his attention on them even as he nearly bucked Nick right back off again with how urgently he rocked his hips. Nick moved his free hand down, sneaking it underneath Joe to support his lower back. He circled his hips, his breath coming out in pants at the pleasant sensation of Joe’s cock dragging along his own. 

Beginning to feel more impatient himself, Nick pulled back again, laughing softly at Joe’s answering whine of protest. He pulled his fingers out of Joe’s mouth, enjoying the wet _pop_ they made, and he crawled backwards. Focusing all his attention on Joe’s lower body, he mouthed at Joe’s sac even as he traced one cool-damp finger around his hole. The groans coming from Joe above him spurred him on, and he lightly scraped his teeth lower down. He breached Joe then, letting his tongue and finger alternate in tiny thrusts. 

He spent much longer preparing Joe than was probably strictly necessary, moving his mouth back and forth between Joe’s entrance, his balls, and the shaft of his cock. By the time he had multiple fingers deep inside him, stretching him out, Joe was a whimpering, writhing mess. Nick couldn’t wait anymore. Somehow, he managed to get enough spit into his mouth to swipe his tongue broadly against his palm. He stroked himself once or twice, then shifted forward, propping himself on one hand as he used the other to guide his cock into Joe. 

“Yes, yes,” Joe moaned, his head tilted uncomfortably back, his eyes squeezed shut. 

Nick fucked into him, changing his angle and pace and force to be the exact opposite of whatever pattern Joe tried to set with his own restricted movements. 

Maybe next time, Joe will listen to Nick when he says it’s too early to try riding an unbroken horse. 

He looked up at Joe, grinning almost triumphantly as he saw Joe sucking and biting at his own arm, pulling it closer to himself so hard that Nick could see how discolored Joe’s fingers were turning. He shifted, lifting Joe off his lap for a second, so he could reposition himself on top of Joe again. With Nick’s mouth now in reach, Joe relaxed his arm, focusing his tongue and teeth and lips on Nick’s own. 

They both groaned, breath mingling, as Nick increased the speed of his thrusts. There was no stopping then. Nick came first with a loud shout of pleasure. And when Joe came only a few moments later, he jerked so hard, Nick was half-afraid they’d be fixing a broken stall the next morning. 

He collapsed on top of Joe, laughing breathlessly. He felt the muscles of Joe’s chest flex and realized he was pulling futilely again. 

“Nick, Nicolo, please,” he muttered.

With a sigh, Nick forced himself up, reaching out to grab the knife he had placed just far enough away for safety but just close enough for the express purpose of cutting Joe loose without having to actually leave him. It required a bit of sawing before the rope was weak enough for Joe to snap free of it. Nick dropped the knife again, even as Joe’s arms came around him in a hug. He could feel the frayed ends of the ropes against his sweaty, naked back, and he smiled as he cuddled up against Joe again.

**

Sometimes, the best way to nab their targets didn’t involve guns and explosions. Sometimes, it involved leather pants and dancing. Particularly during the current decade of cocaine and big cellular phones and bigger hair and business suits and clubs where people fucked and used drugs right out in the open.

And so, when they discussed potential strategies for grabbing the asshole who had been spending his father’s money in more than one illegal way, Booker – who had been tailing the mark for the last week or so – was the first to suggest the idea. His exact phrasing was something like, “he has an obvious type, and Nicky fits it perfectly.”

Joe had said “absolutely not.” Nicky had said “Joe.” 

Nicky won.

Which is how he found himself in a dark secluded alley outside the club, acting as if the drugs he had pretended to take were affecting his inhibitions but not his libido. The smoke lingering on their clothes scratched at his throat and eyes, as the man with him imitated the bump-and-grind dancing they had been doing earlier but in a much more…intimate…way. 

Apparently, the smell of the dumpster a few feet away and the sound of what Nicky was pretty positive was a very large rat digging through the trash was not a mood-killer. 

“Want you so bad,” the guy slurred.

“Mmm,” Nicky hummed, knowing it sounded less than sincere but also knowing the man’s powers of observation were pretty non-existent. 

He leaned into kiss Nicky, who instinctively backed away from the contact. 

“Gonna be a tease, huh?” the guy asked, grinning into Nicky’s face, the stench of his breath almost making him recoil again. “Gonna have to fight you for it, huh?”

Well, shit. That didn’t bode well, Nicky thought, just as a hand came up to grip too tightly around his neck. Nicky reached his own hand up, digging his nails into the man’s fingers. A quick jerk resulted in Nicky’s head being pulled forward and then immediately slammed back against the wall. He saw stars but was not sure if it was from the blow to the back of his head or the increasingly dire loss of oxygen. That was made even worse when he was brought into a violent kiss, the man’s tongue forcing its way into Nicky’s mouth and feeling unusually thick and slimy. Vaguely, he felt tugging at the zipper of his pants (they were really too tight but he had seen the reaction Joe had tried to hide when he tried them on at the store). Joe – Joe would – Joe –

“Joe!” A voice off to the side shouted, but Nicky couldn’t quite tell if that was real or imagined. 

Things went black even as something massive and fast knocked into the man in front of him. Some part of Nicky knew he was falling to the ground but – 

He gasped awake, half-sitting up in the backseat of the car. He looked around wildly, calming when he spotted Joe, who was almost entirely blocked from view by Nicky’s legs bent askew (or at least as much as the pants allowed) in order to fit in the compact space. Joe glanced at him quickly, reaching out to squeeze Nicky’s hand once before staring back out the window into the dark night. The rate at which the streetlights flashed into and out of sight indicated how very fast Andy was driving. 

“Hey,” Booker said, from the front passenger seat. 

“Where is – did we get him?”

As if to answer the question, Nicky heard muffled banging and shouting and he realized the guy was in the trunk. Nicky looked at Joe again, but he didn’t return the eye contact. A few minutes later, Andy started to slow to a stop. Nicky sat up, leaning between the front seats to peer out the window. 

He was about to question why they were back at the safe house already, when they hadn’t _finished_ the job, to put it euphemistically. But before he could, the car was stopped enough for Joe to open the door. 

“We got this,” Andy said unnecessarily. 

With a sharp nod, Joe climbed out of the car. He didn’t look back, but he left the door open, and Nicky definitely got the message. He glanced at Booker, who gave him a sympathetic look, and Andy, who rolled her eyes, and then he followed Joe out of the car. He closed the car door, making it to Joe’s side just as he opened the door of the safe house. 

Nicky was gracious enough to allow him the first words in the brewing argument. It still took Joe until they arrived in their room to finally say them.

“I said it was too dangerous. I _told_ you not to go along with Booker’s stupid plan.”

Nicky smiled softly, but only because Joe still wasn’t looking at him, so he knew he could get away with it. He closed the bedroom door and leaned back against the wall next to it. 

“Did you want to go into that club, guns blazing?”

“There were other options,” Joe shot back, pulling his vest off and then his shirt. Nicky could see several bloodstains that he suspected came from the target. He wondered how many times Joe had hit him before they stuffed him in the trunk. “There was _no_ need to – ”

“This was the safest way,” Nicky interjected. “No one died.”

“You died!” Joe exploded, finally facing him as he threw his arms to the side in an expansive gesture. 

Nicky inhaled and exhaled slowly, deliberately, in order to truly register the feel of oxygen filling his lungs. 

“Yes, I know.”

“ _You_ died,” Joe repeated, his voice quiet and breaking.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Nicky only watched as Joe eventually turned again and finished undressing. He didn’t know how to make it better except by apologizing, which he didn’t plan on doing. It had been the smartest, safest plan they could come up with in the time they had. And Joe knew that too. 

“Come dance with me,” he said instead. 

Joe looked at him, and Nicky repositioned himself against the wall, making his pose just a little seductive. 

“You need to get some rest,” Joe said instead.

Nicky sighed. Joe apparently wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. Or maybe it was himself he was angry at, for not getting to that alley one second sooner. Or maybe it was Booker for suggesting the idea in the first place. Or maybe it was all three of them. 

So, Nicky followed Joe’s instructions and undressed, exhaling in relief when he finally managed to get those damn pants off. He crawled into the bed and was asleep within moments. 

The next three nights in a row, he woke up from some nightmare he never remembered, clawing at his own throat and struggling to breathe. Joe always sat up behind him, wrapping an arm low around Nicky’s waist and murmuring comfortingly in his ear until he calmed. And on the fourth day, when Booker and Andy were out on some errand that Nicky later suspected was just an excuse to clear out for what they probably predicted was coming, Joe finally did something about it. 

He sent Nicky to the bedroom on some made-up request and followed him there, stopping when Nicky stumbled to a halt at the sight of the leather pants on the bed. He turned to look at Joe, who gave him a grin in response. Nicky had discovered, when he put the pants on for the first time outside the store, that it was actually easier to zip them if he lay down, so after one more _look_ at Joe, he did so, even as he snickered.

“You’re just going to be taking these off me,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

Joe didn’t say anything. He was too busy tuning the radio to some college station playing the top-20 club songs. 

Nicky pulled off his shirt as he stood again but didn’t bother replacing it with something else to really sell the look. When Joe faced him, he smiled, waggled his eyebrows at Nicky’s naked chest, and then reached out to pull Nicky closer.

They clutched each other tightly, slotting their legs together and swaying in what could be called dancing in only the loosest sense of the term. They barely made it through one song before Joe had backed Nicky all the way to the wall. Joe’s hands and mouth were everywhere, so Nicky just let his head fall back to knock lightly against the wall. He laughed softly when Joe unbuttoned and unzipped the pants, tugging them down a centimeter or two before they got stuck. 

“These fucking things are too tight,” Joe muttered, clearly annoyed. 

“You like them,” Nicky reminded him.

“They look good,” Joe allowed. “But I want them off.”

Nicky grinned, reaching his own hands down to push at them as he wiggled his hips. Eventually, the pants were low enough for Joe to get his hand where they both wanted it. Nicky moaned, his head falling back against the wall again, the _thunk_ audible. Joe stroked him slowly, looking into his eyes and leaning forward to kiss him incongruously chastely. 

Joe lifted his other hand, letting it rest so the fingers curled over Nicky’s clavicle and shoulder. He wondered if Joe could feel his pulse at his neck, or perhaps in his chest where Joe’s forearm pressed against him. They held eye contact, and then Nicky nodded.

Even then, Joe hesitated before giving in. He slid his hand up and over, wrapping the fingers around Nicky’s neck and pressing the heel of his palm lightly against the notch of Nicky’s throat.

He leaned closer, dropping a kiss to the corner of Nicky’s mouth even as he started moving his other hand again. Nicky groaned, feeling overwhelmed by all the competing sensations. 

“A little tighter, Joe,” Nicky instructed, breathless but not because of the very loose grip Joe held him with.

He complied, just barely, but Nicky had trouble complaining or indeed even focusing with how hard he was getting. He moved his own hands to Joe’s waist, scrabbling for some kind of hold and scratching his fingernails along Joe’s sides, enjoying the way he twitched slightly at the pleasure-pain.

“Tighter, Joe,” Nicky begged. “Both hands.” 

Joe looked up, the expression on his face achingly earnest and ever so slightly scared, and Nicky reached his hands up to hold him still as they kissed. 

“It’s OK,” he murmured against Joe’s lips. “You won’t hurt me,” he promised. “And you know the signal.”

Joe nodded, swallowed, and then did as Nicky asked. Almost embarrassingly soon, Nicky came, gasping for breath and seeing stars. 

He slumped against the wall, his weight held up only by Joe’s strong arms as he moved to hug Nicky. After recovering a bit, Nicky groped around to return the favor, as it were. When he felt only a mildly interested cock, he pulled back, looking down before back at Joe in confusion.

Joe just shrugged. “Not my favorite.”

Nicky hummed in understanding. Then he struck upon a way to break the suddenly somber mood. “I know one way you do like to choke me,” he teased. 

He didn’t wait for any recognition or response from Joe before dropping to his knees. 

Later, after Joe had spilled down Nicky’s throat with a shout, he pulled Nicky to his feet and then led him to the bed. Nicky shuffled, nearly losing his balance before he was able to step out of the leather pooled around his ankles. They curled up in their usual way and relaxed, letting their breaths slow down and even out into a shared rhythm.

“Thank you,” Nicky murmured, his voice so utterly destroyed it simultaneously made him blush and feel a far-too-optimistic frisson of arousal. 

“He’s lucky I don’t know what prison-hole Booker and Andy tossed him in.”

“You can’t get revenge against every person who kills me, Joe,” Nicky reminded him.

“Who cares about that?” Joe said. He couldn’t quite sell the fake apathy, but he forged on anyway, adding, “He _kissed_ you!”

Nicky burst out laughing.

He slept the whole night through peacefully. And he never wore the pants again.

In public.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the dumbest, most embarrassing death yet, as long as he didn’t count the first one when he let an invader with demonic eyes get the better of him. Yusuf literally stepped too close to the edge of a cliff and slipped, impaling himself on a random, pointy tree branch as he toppled down to the rocky coast below. Nicolo was _still_ laughing by the time he got down to help him, but he stopped laughing when he saw that Yusuf was paralyzed from the _fucking wood piercing his fucking spine_.

He was at least kind enough to pull it out and let him fully heal before he started laughing again. The only thing he managed to say was “You should have seen your face when you fell!” 

They hadn’t been friends long enough – and certainly hadn’t been anything else to each other long enough - for Yusuf to take any of it well. And had he mentioned it was embarrassing? He was unexpectedly very invested recently in making sure Nicolo thought he was competent and suave and…coordinated enough _not_ to fall off a cliff. So, he wasn’t exactly in the mood for conversation the rest of the day. 

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t curl up behind Nicolo when they slept that night. He had been doing that even before…well. He couldn’t quite bring himself to sleep far away from him, like they used to. No, they were still right next to each other. He just turned the opposite way, wrapping his arms around his own stomach rather than Nicolo’s. 

It was a pale imitation, but he had no intention of – 

Nicolo’s arm came around him, his fingers intertwining with Yusuf’s. 

“I am sorry,” he whispered. “Please do not be mad.”

His Arabic still was no better than a child’s. Actually, Yusuf knew many children who would laugh at Nicolo’s attempts to say the simplest of sentences. But _he_ did not laugh, because _he_ was a better person than that. 

“I am not mad,” he replied in Nicolo’s language, and if it rubbed in the fact that he was far more skilled in it, so be it.

Nicolo hesitated. “You’re not?”

Yusuf sighed. “I am embarrassed,” he admitted. “It _was_ pretty clumsy.”

“You do not need to be embarrassed. I didn’t really find it funny.”

“Hard to tell with how much you were laughing.”

“I think it was mostly worry. Or relief.”

Yusuf was silent for a long while. When Nicolo tightened his embrace and placed a kiss on the back of Yusuf’s neck, he gave in.

“I will pretend to believe that.”

Nicolo’s snicker at that was less annoying than it had been earlier in the day. Yusuf started to turn around, intent on kissing him for the first time in hours. Probably the longest they’d gone since they first started kissing. But Nicolo wouldn’t let him move too far, holding him in place with a firm grip and a _mm-mm_. 

Yusuf hummed curiously. 

“I want to – there is only one thing that should ever pierce you from behind.”

“Huh?” Yusuf asked, confused before he suddenly realized – oh. 

_Oh._

His silence must have made Nicolo nervous. It was not something either one of them had done before, according to one humiliating yet arousing conversation they’d had after the first time they perhaps predictably succumbed to temptation and managed to just barely remove their clothes enough to feel skin before they frantically rubbed against each other to completion. In the months since, they’d done a lot more but never… 

“Is that – do you - ?” 

“Yes, of course,” Yusuf said, cutting Nicolo off before he could talk either of them out of it. 

Before Nicolo, his answer might have been different, as the few others he’d been with in the past never seemed to enjoy it very much. The first time he’d taken Nicolo, he’d been so afraid that he was actually quite bad at it, that he’d do nothing but disappoint and hurt someone who had grown to mean more to him than he wanted to admit, but – well, Nicolo was not disappointed. Nicolo was, in fact, quite vocal about how pleased he was with the whole thing. It had made Yusuf…curious. 

After a moment of hesitation, Nicolo pushed himself up, leaning across Yusuf’s body to stretch his fingers out for the pack just a short distance away. Yusuf took the hint, grabbing it himself and opening it to pull out the container of salve they had purchased a few weeks ago when they passed through a settlement large enough to have a market. He wordlessly handed the container back to Nicolo. 

Nicolo took it, dropping back down behind him again. He tugged at their clothes and blankets until they were bare, and then shifted closer to Yusuf. His half-hard cock nestled in between the cheeks of Yusuf’s ass, bringing his own cock to attention. Yusuf listened carefully to the sounds of Nicolo moving behind him, as he opened and a few moments later, closed the container again. When Nicolo touched him, however, he surprised Yusuf by reaching around and taking hold of him in a firm grip. 

He supposed it wasn’t so surprising. Nicolo had proven himself to be quite…polite…about making sure they both enjoyed themselves, rather than simply chasing his own pleasure. And Yusuf was definitely enjoying himself. Nicolo stroked him at just the right speed, just the right pressure. But, he remembered as he pushed back against Nicolo and felt the length of his hardness again, it wasn’t what they had agreed on.

“Do it already,” Yusuf groaned, absolutely _not_ begging. He might no longer be trying to kill Nicolo at every opportunity, but he wasn’t about to be at his mercy either. This – arrangement – was about mutual pleasure, and he expected Nicolo to deliver. 

Nicolo simply hushed him, making Yusuf hot with…anger or something. Before he could respond, though, Nicolo let him go. That almost made him equally disappointed, but he got over it when Nicolo’s slick hand slid over his hip and around to his ass. He gave the fleshy muscle a squeeze, and then moved his hand again. 

Nicolo pulled back slightly, his finger replacing his cock and lightly tracing along the skin of Yusuf’s hole. Which was when every muscle in Yusuf’s body clenched tightly. Nicolo’s breath fluttered against the back of Yusuf’s neck in silent laughter.

“Please stop laughing at me,” Yusuf gritted out, more embarrassed than annoyed. 

“I am not mocking you,” Nicolo replied quickly, tilting his head to kiss the back of Yusuf’s head. “I swear. I am – I have never done this before, and I am nervous too.”

Yusuf breathed slowly, calming down but still feeling awkward. 

“I do not want to do something wrong,” Nicolo continued, suddenly, achingly serious. “Or hurt you. Yusuf, if you don’t want to do this – ”

“I want to,” Yusuf cut him off, worried that Nicolo might actually stop. “I want to.” 

Nicolo exhaled. Yusuf sensed him nod. “Then, you must relax. _Breathe_ , Yusuf.”

Drawing on every last ounce of his resolve, Yusuf willed the tension to leave his body. Then Nicolo pushed his finger inside, slowly but with determination, and Yusuf went completely boneless. He groaned loudly, involuntarily. 

“Good?” Nicolo whispered.

Yusuf nodded, unable to find his voice. And he kept on panting and moaning as Nicolo moved his finger in and out, in and out, changing the speed and the depth occasionally. Yusuf remembered about the spot inside Nicolo that made him wild and desperate whenever Yusuf hit it, just as Nicolo found it in him. Yusuf wanted to weep with pleasure, and he reached his hand out in front of himself, spreading out his fingers to brace himself as he pushed back against Nicolo.

Nicolo hummed and bent his forehead to rest on Yusuf’s neck, apparently looking down at them. Yusuf wondered how much he could see, and what they looked like in the moonlight. Then, he didn’t wonder much of anything, his brain shutting down as Nicolo continued to work on him. Yusuf lost track of time, of the number of fingers Nicolo had in him, of his own control, until he was nothing more than a whimpering mess, face pressed into his arm to muffle his cries. 

Perhaps out of his own urgency, or perhaps sensing that Yusuf wouldn’t hold on much longer, Nicolo pulled his fingers out completely. Yusuf was almost, but not really, grateful for the temporary loss.

“Do you want to – decide when?” Nicolo asked.

“What?” Yusuf asked, not understanding at all. 

Nicolo snuck his hand underneath Yusuf, pulling and nudging him until he rolled, landing on top of Nicolo back to front. After grunting from his weight, Nicolo pushed at his shoulders, forcing Yusuf to sit. 

“Up, up,” Nicolo instructed, his hands on Yusuf’s waist in a futile attempt to lift him. 

He grabbed Yusuf’s hand, pulling it around and down to touch Nicolo’s cock, but it wasn’t until he felt Nicolo push at his hole that Yusuf finally understood. He never claimed to retain all his mental faculties during sex. Then he was moving, repositioning himself onto his knees and taking a firmer grip of Nicolo’s cock to hold it in place. 

Nicolo sighed, running a hand along Yusuf’s side. “You can lower down when you – ”

Yusuf sunk onto him without warning or any further delay. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Nicolo chanted, his hands spasming before gripping the crests of Yusuf’s hips tightly. 

He moved slowly at first, getting used to the feeling as the pain and stretch of the intrusion gave way to an unusual but…delightful fullness. He squeezed around Nicolo to truly feel him, earning another soft and low _fuck_ from him. Yusuf rocked back and forth experimentally, finally understanding why Nicolo had never seemed to have any complaint about this.

“If you don’t start moving…” Nicolo suddenly said, the implied threat not very convincing given how absolutely broken he sounded. 

It was Yusuf’s turn to laugh, somewhat breathlessly, but he obliged anyway. And soon enough, he was practically bouncing up and down, leaning forward to hold himself up with one hand. His other hand worked his cock rapidly. Beneath him, Nicolo’s legs thrashed as he tried to get enough leverage to fuck up into Yusuf. Every thrust hit Yusuf just right, and he didn’t last long. He came with a shout, shuddering and losing his balance slightly. Almost at the same time, Nicolo nearly lifted Yusuf clear off the ground as he arched up. His climax began inside of Yusuf, but with their uncontrolled movements, he slipped out and the final spurts splashed onto Yusuf’s ass and lower back. 

He collapsed, falling back onto Nicolo, crushing him again. They both fought for breath for a few moments, then Yusuf laughed. 

“Definitely liked that better than this afternoon. You can impale me anytime.”

Nicolo chuckled in response, even as Yusuf slid off him to the ground. He turned to look at Nicolo in time to see him nodding in agreement. Then he closed his eyes again, relaxing more while flopping his arm back and up to land on Nicolo’s chest. 

Eventually, they cleaned themselves and straightened out their clothes and bedding. They curled up, this time with Yusuf in his usual place wrapped around Nicolo’s back. He slipped a knee in between Nicolo’s, sighed, and settled to the sound of Nicolo breathing slow and deep. 

He was the first to wake in the morning. In the growing light, he stared at the back of Nicolo’s head, thinking, accepting some hard truths that he had tried to avoid for so long. This was – Nicolo was – despite or perhaps even because of their rough beginning, Nicolo had become _more_ to him than a reluctant travel companion with whom he (increasingly often) sought _friendly_ sexual release. 

In fact, Yusuf realized he would gladly be at Nicolo’s mercy for a very long time. For _forever_ , it would seem.

A sniff alerted him to Nicolo waking just before he rolled to face Yusuf. Nicolo gave him a small smile.

“I love you,” Yusuf said.

Nicolo blinked once, twice, then he forced a grimacing sort of smile. “Yes, I said that to the first man who fucked me too.”

But Yusuf would not be deterred. “I love you,” he repeated. “Like a – a spouse,” he added, lacking the words to capture the depths of his feelings or the unimaginable scope of the long, shared life ahead of them. 

Nicolo’s expression sobered, and his gaze dropped. He swallowed, reached one hand out to press his fingers above Yusuf’s rapidly beating heart. Then, he smiled, breathing out as he met Yusuf’s eyes again.

“I love you too.”

Yusuf grinned as he pulled Nicolo into a hug. They held each other tightly, their happy, relieved, somewhat crazed laughter ringing out loudly. 

They both found more than one death mockable over the next several years, but after they met Andromache and Quynh and heard about Lykon, they never laughed again. Well…not until they knew the other one was alright, anyway. 

They laughed many times during sex, though. Only rightly, because sex could be, quite frankly, ridiculously fun. And sometimes just ridiculous.

**

An ominously dark sky and a crack of lightning were the only warnings before the torrential downpour soaked them within seconds. And then…

The roar of swirling water through the valley as the dam burst less than half an hour later.

Their horses and belongings all swept away, yet the damage and loss nothing compared to the houses and land that were destroyed, and with them, all those poor people. 

Rocks and branches and other debris scratching all over their bodies, striking against their heads, but not hard enough to mercifully make them unconscious. 

Reaching out for Joseph, trying to hold on, terrified of losing him like they lost Quynh. Their grip on each other not enough as they were pulled apart by the force of the flood. 

Choking, coughing, flailing about, trying to find the surface, desperate pulls of air until all he was breathing was water. 

When he woke, he was resting on the bank, his feet still in the water. The river rushed by as it probably once had, before people had the hubris to try to control nature. Nico coughed several times, eventually vomiting up water. He climbed to his hands and knees, then stood and looked around. As feared, he saw no one else. 

“Joseph! _Joseph!_ ” he shouted. 

He wondered whether he should stay there to let Joseph find him, or go in search of him. Would he be upstream or downstream from Joseph? What if Joseph hadn’t made it to the surface or the bank? What if he was still in the water, being dragged farther and farther from Nico? Nico took another breath, trying not to panic.

“Yusuf!” he yelled again. 

Perhaps the _Nicolo! _was only in his imagination, but he’d take it. He ran as fast as his waterlogged clothes allowed in the direction of the echoing call. It took several long minutes for them to find each other, but when Nico spotted Joseph, he ran straight into his arms, knocking him to the ground.__

__Joseph didn’t seem to mind, as he spent an unnecessarily long time pointlessly checking Nico for injuries._ _

__“You’re alright?” he asked, between quick kisses. “Are you hurt?”_ _

__“Yes, no, I am fine,” Nico confirmed, reaching up to cup Joseph’s face as he pulled him into a deeper embrace._ _

__“No, you’re not,” Joseph said, several moments later when they pulled apart again. “Look at you, you’re a mess. Mud everywhere.”_ _

__“You should see yourself,” Nico replied, smiling widely._ _

__“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Joseph said, starting to move them both closer to the river. Even the suggestive hint of his tone was not enough to convince Nico to actually let him, though._ _

__“I’m not going into moving water any time soon.”_ _

__“We’ll be fine. Must get back on the horse, as they say.”_ _

__“Our horses have likely drowned, the poor things.”_ _

__Joseph was not deterred. The kiss he gave Nico was distractingly passionate enough that they were up to their waists before Nico even realized it. His will power was quickly diminishing, but…there was still something…he felt a pain in his heart as he remembered the terror, the disorientation, the shock, and tried not to imagine _centuries _of that, over and over and over again. He rested his head against Joseph’s shoulder, breathing deeply, resisting the urge to rush back to shore.___ _

____The way Joseph held him and the uneven breaths that hit against Nico’s neck proved that Joseph wasn’t as unaffected as he was forcing himself to seem. Nico appreciated the effort to cheer them both up almost as much as he appreciated Joseph helping him to understand he wasn’t alone in his response._ _ _ _

____He wasn’t alone._ _ _ _

____“We’re both still here,” Nico whispered. “We’re still together.”_ _ _ _

____Joseph nodded, before making a promise he couldn’t guarantee but Nico believed to be true anyway. “Always, always.”_ _ _ _

____Another kiss, even more forceful than before, and Nico decided he could – if they were cautious, if they – he could do this. He wanted to do this._ _ _ _

____He broke away, looking around. Only a short distance away, still comfortingly close to land, was a boulder, half above the surface._ _ _ _

____“Over there, by the rock.”_ _ _ _

____Nico didn’t wait for a response, simply turning and splashing his way through the waist-high water. They were moving with the current, so it wasn’t much of a fight, but they were still shallow enough to keep their balance. It was a compromise Nico could live with._ _ _ _

____Just as he arrived at the boulder, Joe hugged him from behind, holding him against his chest for a moment. Nico closed his eyes, sighed, savored the solid strength of Joseph’s body, the warmth seeping through the wet clothes. His lips twitched into a smile, which grew even wider when Joseph started working at his clothes._ _ _ _

____“Let’s get these dirty things off you. We’ll need to wash them. Later.”_ _ _ _

____“Much later,” Nico agreed._ _ _ _

____Once they were both naked, their clothes draped over the boulder to dry, Nico faced Joseph, who moved forward to trap Nico between the rock and his body. It wasn’t the most comfortable surface Joseph had ever fucked him against, but he wasn’t going to complain._ _ _ _

____He might complain a bit about the temperature of the water that Joseph scooped up to pour over Nico’s body. Or maybe his complaint was more about the _tease_ of Joseph’s delaying._ _ _ _

____“We’ll just need to clean again anyway,” Nico reminded him. “How about we wait and do it only once?”_ _ _ _

____Joseph grinned, ignoring Nico as he bent again, his cupped hands collecting more water._ _ _ _

____“Remember that first time we were able to really clean up? After…the siege.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes,” Nico said cautiously. Talking about that period after they first met, after everything Nico had taken part in, after they’d killed each other so many times and finally fell into an uneasy truce, did not seem particularly…conducive…to their current activities, but he figured he’d let Joseph explain himself._ _ _ _

____“You were this demon – caked in blood, guts, dust, the most unsettling eyes, speaking in an almost incomprehensible tongue, not to mention impossible to kill. I did not believe you were entirely human, but I also didn’t know what that made me.”_ _ _ _

____Nico ran his tongue between his lower lip and teeth, training his _unsettling_ eyes on Joseph as he waited for more. _ _ _ _

____“When you cleaned all that off and took off your clothes,” Joseph continued, pausing long enough for Nico to start smirking, “I realized you were actually a siren or something sent to entice me.”_ _ _ _

____Nico threw his head back and laughed._ _ _ _

____“I admit to being very…angry and confused by how I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he replied, once he calmed again. “I told myself it was out of concern that you would attack me again.”_ _ _ _

____“I was the one who put my sword down first,” Joseph said, feigning offense._ _ _ _

____Nico cocked an eyebrow at him. “I had to blame it on something. I’m just glad that I got past that enough to eventually _seduce_ you, like the deadly temptation I apparently am.”_ _ _ _

____“Lies! I was the one totally in control that first time.”_ _ _ _

____Nico shook his head, laughing._ _ _ _

____“Such outright falsehoods about our history will not be tolerated,” Joseph groused._ _ _ _

____“So, punish me.”_ _ _ _

____Joseph didn’t bother with any more half-hearted attempts to rinse Nico off. He crowded up against him, making Nico wince from the scrape of the boulder against his back. He pressed his cock against Nico’s, both still hinting at hardness from their previous kisses or perhaps even from the flirtation. Through an unspoken agreement, they didn’t waste time on any sort of pleasant diversions, just got right to it. Joseph stuck three fingers in Nico’s mouth, and he sucked on them, running his tongue over them, getting them as wet as he could. At the same time, Joseph hoisted him until he could squeeze his knees against Joseph’s hips. He wasn’t lifted that high up; his lower legs were still partially submerged, after all. He was just high enough, though, for Joseph to comfortably reach when he moved his fingers from one opening in Nico’s body to another._ _ _ _

____The slide of the first one burned, making Nico bite Joseph’s shoulder as he whined. He spared a longing thought for the bottle of oil lost with the rest of his belongings. But he’d done it before without anything slick, and he’d do it again, if it meant he was able to have Joseph inside him._ _ _ _

____It wasn’t like he wouldn’t heal anyway._ _ _ _

____Joseph seemed to fight a battle between his desire not to hurt Nico and his desire to fuck him senseless, and so dragged out the stretching more than Nico would have liked. Eventually, though, he pushed inside him. Nico groaned, jerking one arm back until his elbow hit the boulder, but he didn’t let that sudden pain ruin things. Joseph fell forward, his whole body pressing its weight against Nico. They did not kiss, did not talk, did not do anything, in fact, but cling to each other as they moved together. The force of every thrust splashed river water up to Nico’s cock, his stomach, sometimes his chest or even as high as his neck._ _ _ _

____Nico breathed heavily, a far cry from his desperate gasping for air earlier. Joseph moaned, before whispering in Nico’s ear, endearments mixing with lustful _filth_ in a raspy voice. _ _ _ _

____Nico tilted his hips up as best as he could and moved his hands to clutch at Joseph’s shoulders. He threw his head back, shouting blasphemous obscenities as he came, his release washed off his chest almost immediately by the river water still rushing over him with every twist of Joseph’s hips. That was happening faster and faster, the pace of Joseph’s strokes increasing as he sought his own climax. He actually growled when he let go._ _ _ _

____Joseph rested for several long moments before he pulled out. And a few moments after that, he backed away enough to let Nico stand on his own. Well, _try to_ , anyway. His legs were surprisingly wobbly and he dropped a bit before Joseph caught him again._ _ _ _

____“Careful,” Joseph warned, chuckling. “Don’t want to drown.”_ _ _ _

____“Don’t be so smug.”_ _ _ _

____“You can’t even stand. I think I can be a little smug.”_ _ _ _

____Nico kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’re right; I better rest a bit more before I try to do anything.”_ _ _ _

____He pushed Joseph away and – with some exaggerated struggle – made it back to the shore, where he collapsed on his back, still entirely naked._ _ _ _

____“You’ll take care of washing the clothes, yes?” he asked._ _ _ _

____Joseph laughed, nodding in recognition of Nico’s trickery as he turned slightly away. “Yes, my darling. Happy to.”_ _ _ _

____They eventually cleaned up for real, and pulled on their clothes when they were almost dry. They agreed to follow the river until they could find a town far enough out of its path to still be standing, where they could restock their supplies. It was quite pleasant, in a way, walking side by side, hands brushing each other, enjoying the sunlight shining through the few remaining dark clouds._ _ _ _

____The walk turned from quite pleasant to joyful when they came across their tired, injured, dirty, anxious, missing all the packs that had been tied to them, but unquestionably _alive_ horses. Joseph spotted them first, shouted out his gratitude and surprise, and ran to where they stood shakily, restlessly along the bank. _ _ _ _

____Nico followed quickly, throwing his arms in a hug around his horse and burying his face in her mane to absorb his tears. The water had released Joseph and their horses and him that day, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether someday it would give up Quynh too. He’d take this as a sign not to give up hope yet._ _ _ _

______ _ _

**

It didn’t take them very long at all to move to the bed once they’d finished. They both agreed that, even if they _were_ the ages they appeared to be, they would still be too old to be getting up to that sort of thing on the floor. Not that either complained much at the time.

But now, they were curled up on a soft mattress, a lightweight quilt draped over them. Even the spartan conditions of the safe house were far better than many of the other places they had slept over their long lives (and indeed, some of their actual homes felt almost disgustingly decadent in comparison). Yet, despite the comfortable room, not to mention the exhaustion and all the blissful hormones, Joe wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet. He tightened his embrace around Nicky, shifting closer to kiss the back of his neck. Nicky’s only reply was to pat his hand against Joe’s arm. 

“What are you thinking about?” Joe wondered.

After a pause, Nicky answered, “Andy.”

Joe snorted. “Clearly I didn’t do something right just now.”

“No,” Nicky replied, amusement clear in his voice. “You were perfect, as always, my love. I was just thinking about – someday we will lose her. And someday, we will be in the same position she is in now.”

“Yes, _we_ will be. I can only hope we are lucky enough to still be alive after discovering it, like she was.”

“ _We?_ ” There was a hint of an un-Nicky-like skepticism in his reply. 

“Uh-uh. You know the rules. I am the one who reads too much poetry and gets too worried about tragedy. You are the one who has unshakeable faith in the destiny of our love. Don’t start doubting now, or I will start sobbing about all the excellent plans we have for the best-case scenario, and then you will start crying, and then those lovely orgasms will just be wasted.”

“Sorry,” Nicky said, lifting Joe’s hand by the fingers so he could kiss it quickly. “Today was just – a lot. I will strive for my usual intense level of conviction.”

“Thank you, my heart.” Joe sighed, then added a prediction, “At any rate, I feel it is a long time and many, many deaths in the future still.”

“Good.”

“Good? You look forward to my deaths?”

“I look forward to what comes after.”

Joe smiled fondly. He kissed Nicky’s head again, sighed, and settled deeper against his pillow. After several long moments, he mumbled, “Rest now, and we’ll rejoice in our survival again in the morning,” he suggested. 

Nicky’s only reply was a soft hum, as he too succumbed to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before I read Ain't evil but I ain't a saint (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716704/chapters/70363395) but I want to give it a shout-out anyway, because you can never have too many stories where someone goes over a cliff.
> 
> Also, I definitely stole the "wow you're hot when you're clean" thing from this tumblr post: https://veryoldmuchguard.tumblr.com/post/640393855653593088/love-the-idea-of-yusuf-and-nicol%C3%B2-having-finally


End file.
